Dead Man Walking
by Accidental Paradox
Summary: They have endured pain and suffering beyond imagining. Now it is the final fight to reclaim Red Dwarf. Who will survive?
1. Tomorrow is the first day

Disclaimer - I love Red Dwarf, I do not own it or any of its characters/plotlines/humorous props etc. I am poor and make no money from this humble piece of writing. Now leave me alone.  
  
A/N - This is set after the episode "Legion" But before the Dwarfers meet Kochanski in series 7.  
  
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Dead Man Walking  
  
Chapter 1 - "Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your death."  
  
Lister was in a good mood. Well, considering he was stuck 3 million years in deep space on a ship that couldn't pass an MOT at PC world, with no lager and only 10 jars of chilli sauce: it was a good mood. Legion had given Rimmer a new "hard light" body, which kept him out of Lister's way - frankly Lister didn't want to know what the neurotic smeghead was doing with his new found "physicalities." He, Lister, was much more preoccupied at the moment with the non-physical.  
  
The fresh batch of supplies from derelicts and the upgrades made to Starbug's systems meant that he could take full advantage of the A.R. machine. Not a day went by when he didn't escape, to worlds where he was not the last human being alive, and cats did not steal his one and only blanket to make themselves a new jacket (He had never forgiven Cat for that, even though his so-called friend had insisted it was a medical emergency.) Kryten had started fussing over him again, but Lister made sure that "Wimbledon" and "Streets of Laredo" were destroyed to avoid unessecary implications. (And showdowns with viruses from hell - that was one reality he did not care to face again anytime soon.)  
  
Lister was sensible about his time in A.R. He realised that he could not keep locking himself away in a pretend world and allow time to pass him by. When he was not seeking brief respite in the arms of the Queen of Camelot, he was heading the search for Red Dwarf - his home, though it had took him six years to realise it.  
  
This afternoon though, it was time for some fun. A derelict Star Cruiser had yielded some new A.R games, and after a bad morning (Kryten had tried to feed him toasted space weevil in curry sauce for breakfast, and even though Cat had unpicked the stitching, his blanket was now 4 sizes too small and sequinned round the edges.) Lister was at the A.R simulation suite with a handful of games and a new Nerve Connection Processor which claimed "Maximum Sensory Stimulation." That plus a couple of editions of Beach Volleyball Hawaii and a unique game entitled "Ostrich Riding for Beginners" made for a fun-filled action-packed evening, and more opportunities for practising his serve.  
  
Tiptoeing past the laundry room with the grace of a drunken monkey, Lister made his way to the A.R simulation suite. Once there, he swiped all the half-eaten vindaloo's off the console with one arm, and stacked the games on top of his box of Kleenex. Rummaging underneath the desk for yesterdays sugar puff sandwich, (and the groinal attachment - Rimmer found Lister's habit of storing it with his snacks increasingly disturbing) he banged his head on the console and the games came crashing down in a synthetic avalanche on his head.  
  
"Smeggin' hell!"  
  
Cursing, and rubbing his now rapidly-swelling forehead, Lister started sorting through the pile for "Beach Volleyball Hawaii Volume Three - Mixed Doubles!" and let loose a string of curses when he discovered that it happened to be the one that had broken his fall. His good mood ruined, he frantically tossed other games aside, searching desperately for anything that would come close to alleviate his boredom. A strange disk near the bottom of the pile caught his eye - "Dead Man Walking - An adventure beyond a lifetime" They had picked it up a few months back. Unfortunately, (or fortunately depending on how you looked at it) it had been in the pile with "Women's Zero-G Football Finals" and "Party Animal 2310" so Lister hadn't got round to playing it yet. He decided to give it a shot, after all it may even be fun.  
  
Just as he was plugging in all the equipment, (just in case!) Kryten poked his head around the door of the suite.  
  
"Mr Lister Sir, do you really think you should be using the A.R machine this often?"  
  
Lister sighed and carried on booting up the new Nerve Connection processor. All his nerve endings tingled as the gadget fused to his brain.  
  
"Kryten for the last time - This is the only source of entertainment on this Rustheap. I am not obsessed and I'll be on time for my next shift. Now go away, I'm busy."  
  
"But Sir."  
  
"No Buts Kryters, I'm having a look at this new game and If it is good I'll have another look, and another. Now smeg off and baby-sit Rimmer for a while. He might help you do something REALLY fun, like ironing or even cataloguing socks."  
  
Kryten knew when he was beaten.  
  
"Yes Sir, I'll see you at next shift change then."  
  
Lister Shook his head in frustration as Kryten's footsteps faded down the corridor - he was only looking at one game, what harm could it do?  
  
"Computer, run program "Dead.log"  
  
"Initialised"  
  
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This is my first RD FanFic - hope you like it. All reviews and constructive criticism welcomed. ^_^  
  
~Kuja7Dax1~ 


	2. Look Before You Leap

Dead Man Walking  
  
Chapter 2 - Look Before You Leap  
  
The customary bright light flooded his vision, and Lister stepped into a white room, the usual "loading" place for most A.R games. He stepped forward, his heavy steps sending echoes along the smooth floor. When he reached the centre of the room, objects whooshed into existence. A filing cabinet and wardrobe appeared to his left against a wall, and a cork bulletin board on his right. Before he could think of what to do next, a huge door appeared in front of him. It was as black as a void, with intricate carvings that swirled and looped around each other, seeming to move all by themselves. A thin plume of purple-ish smoke rose from the tiny crack at the bottom of the door, and it emitted a sulphurous smell that made his nose scrunch into itself, his whole face contorting with disgust.  
  
Lister staggered back, and decided that diabolical weirdness was not on his agenda. He may not be a coward, but no human, not even the last one alive could subject his nose to that for long and stay conscious. He was just about to clap his hands and leave when the doors flew open and a figure glided - not walked, glided - towards him.  
  
He was not completely surprised, these A.R games were known for their corny mascots. What better mascot for a game with "Dead" in it's title than the Grim Reaper. Well it looked like the Grim Reaper. Sort of.  
  
The more he looked at the silent figure the more he noticed that it didn't look all that much like the Grim Reaper. It was.well scarier. It's scythe was absent without leave, It's cloak was a dull red, not black and it had no limbs as far as he could see. Two flickering flames replaced its eyes.  
  
Lister's stomach hadn't felt this worried since he had eaten that pasta vindaloo - One proof that curry cannot make everything in the world taste better. Two days later in the medical bay, Lister had reflected that he should have listened to his body when it told him in a churning, squeezing, hopping sort of way that things were very bad. This was one of those times. His stomach was yelling at him that compared to a pasta vindaloo, this thing was a French salad and croissant with grated carrot.  
  
Trying to clap his hands, Lister realised they were manacled. Heavily manacled. They were the sort of things you used on rabid elephants. He could not even lift his arms to his waist. He was squirming around, and trying not to overbalance when the thing spoke:  
  
"Welcome Dave Lister, to Dead Man Walking - The adventure of a lifetime. Are you prepared?"  
  
It's voice was low, but very raspy. Lister took a deep breath (through his mouth!) and decided that he had had enough.  
  
"Get these off, pal. I have an appointment with reality and its way, way overdue!"  
  
The flaming eyes bobbed up and down as the thing laughed. It was not a nice laugh - it was the kind of laugh that Bond villains perfected in their spare time, a laugh that made evildoers want to join in and other people to cower. Lister shuddered and resumed struggling, refusing to accept that a psycho with flames for eyes was essentially holing him hostage in an artificial room with manacles that were not real. He really could not cope with that now.  
  
"How do you know my name, I haven't told you yet."  
  
"We scan your mind. It essential for your adventure." The thing smirked  
  
"I am afraid that your appointment is with me. We have important matters to see to."  
  
Lister was not buying it, whatever this game was supposed to do, it was not supposed to lead him to a change of pants. He decided that he would have to find the exit program, and so he attempted to keep Beelzebub's cousin talking.  
  
"What matters are those then? I thought this was an adventure game"  
  
"Oh it is, it is all a big game - to me. I find it amusing. You of course may not be as enamoured with its little "peculiarities"."  
  
Lister felt a huge shooting pain enter him. It seemed to come through the top of his head and pass like a beam, or a wave down his body. A red light flashed before his eyes, and he fell to the ground. The manacles kept holding his arms under him as he struggled to rise.  
  
"What the smeg was that?!"  
  
"I'm sorry, the process is far more painful when using illegal methods. Hacking into your ships databanks was more difficult than expected."  
  
Through gritted teeth, Lister threw himself backward and then slithered across the floor until he found the cabinet. Propping himself up, he caught his breath, and waited for the shock of the pain to die down.  
  
"I'll say again - What was that? What is a game doing hacking into the ship's computer?"  
  
"Enough talk. The process is complete and it is time for us to begin."  
  
The doors to the cupboard opened. The shelves inside were filled with weapons of all kinds, from swords to guns and some alien things he couldn't even name.  
  
"Make your choice. One weapon only."  
  
Lister pondered. He reasoned that he had to go to past the loading section before the game would let him quit. Also thinking about ammunition issues, and durability (the Bazookoids were about as reliable as an Aldi tin opener) he selected a mid-length curved sword with a double edged blade. When he named his choice, the manacles and all other weapons vanished, and he picked up the sword. It felt heavy in his sweating palms.  
  
"Sweat? That shouldn't be there!"  
  
"I think you will find this game more.realistic than most. Now comes your final choice, one you will find difficult I fear. Your first and last decision in this adventure of a lifetime - How will you die?!"  
  
The thing's voice faded into insane laughter, and its body was consumed in flames. The room vanished, and Lister found himself being propelled toward the black door. He clapped and clapped, but the clammy palms and the sword remained. He was in darkness, and he was a dead man walking. In any form, dying was not a good thing - even in A.R. He had met Death himself and found him to not be a very pleasant bloke.  
  
"If only this thing had a smegging instruction manual - what the hell have I let myself in for?"  
  
Voices issued from the dark.  
  
"Dead Man Walking, are you ready? The end has just begun."  
  
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Please review, I appreciate all constructive criticism! Thanks go to those who reviewed chapter one: I am very grateful for your advice.  
  
~Kuja7Dax1~ 


	3. Oblivion

Dead Man Walking  
  
Chapter 3 - Oblivion  
  
The voices got closer, their hissing sending cold spasms down his back and legs. Lister gripped the sword with both hands and tried to look as though he knew how to use it. He realised it was useless when he gave a practice swing and almost overbalanced nose first. The voices laughed, their eyes fading into view from the dark. Numerous, glowing bloodshot eyes with slit pupils, Lister was not looking forward to meeting their owners but he agreed with his subconscious classification of dangerous life forms that they were better than flaming infernos in void-like sockets. This did not make him feel at all better.  
  
"Ok, joke over! Get me the smeg out of here!"  
  
He clapped his hands again, the rough hilt of the sword rubbing his palm and causing him to almost lose his grip on the weapon. Then as usual in his times of stress, he found someone to blame.  
  
"Rimmer, you smeghead! Why didn't you bin this stupid game? You love chucking out my stuff don't you? Well now would be a great time to show up and bloody well do something about my A.R hobby! Take your smeggin' time!"  
  
His babbling getting him nowhere, he concentrated instead on his present, not very rosy situation and decided that he had better take charge.  
  
"Ok.Who wants some?!"  
  
Swinging wildly with the sword, he rushed forward and found himself in the scene from a nightmare. Red rushed into his vision and acrid smoke burned his lungs. Looking behind him for a possible way to go back, the dark room had completely disappeared. The monsters - the huge, salivating monsters - had not.  
  
He stood in the ruins of what seemed like a great city, towering buildings rose above him on a wide street, but many had been partially destroyed and rubble littered the streets. Hunks of metal, perhaps cars or furniture lay twisted on the pavements: and there was red. Everything was red.  
  
The sky was a dull rust colour with dark menacing clouds rushing along at impossible speeds, the buildings were bathed in red light or burning in blood coloured fire. Along the streets were bodies, all of them mutilated and all devoid of colours but for that awful red. Lister gagged, and stumbled backwards, the sword getting tangled with his legs and tripping him.  
  
He was surrounded, with no way out. Creatures of all shapes and sizes, none he could name were coming out of the buildings, leaping over the ruins of cars and sneaking round corners as only monsters can. They were all heading directly for Lister.  
  
Lister decided that a "sitting duck" posture was not a good plan, and sprang inelegantly to his feet. Cursing and swearing at no one in particular he picked up the sword and decided to try the last resort. What Rimmer would call "diplomacy" and what Lister more commonly called "sweet talking," "cowardice," and in this case "suicide."  
  
"Come on guys, this is just a game, right? I am sure you get loads of people to kill. I'm really unfit too, so it's going to be no fun at all: promise. "  
  
The monsters laughed again. Lister noticed with disgust that they drooled more awake than he did drunk and unconscious. Also rather worryingly, they were sharpening some knives.  
  
"Sorry, we have to kill you, boss's orders."  
  
The nearest thick-skinned, large-toothed monster slobbered, grunted and snarled all at once, while even managing to make itself understood.  
  
".but we enjoy it too, which is a bonus!"  
  
It chuckled maniacally while alternately drooling and sniffing. Apparently multi-tasking was not possible while it was laughing. Lister was not comforted. It's two evil eyes in their evil sockets were still fixed firmly on him, and he knew that one move and he would be sliced, diced and sautéed in about fifty different ways. Back to the sweet-talking.  
  
"Good for you. Must be great to have a job you enjoy."  
  
The monsters looked a bit taken aback.  
  
"Well yeah, 'course it is."  
  
The other monsters nodded agreement, and Lister mentally giggled at the spectacle: he was trapped in a game with hundreds of too-real monsters all wearing the same expression. They ludicrously reminded him of estate agents. The kind that try and sell people a building with dry-rot as "weathered". He wasn't sure if the monsters sold anything, but he thought that they would be great taxmen. Judging by the state of the city estate agencies were out of business by now.  
  
"So I um, have to die then?"  
  
"Well yeah, isn't that why you came?"  
  
"Not really, I just wanted a laugh."  
  
"Too bad. We have to kill you anyway. Attack!"  
  
The last rational thought that crossed Lister's mind was "Who the hell really says: "attack" when attacking anyone?" Then as the monsters closed in, his mind began gibbering insanely, to anyone, anything. Pleading for someone to come and save him.  
  
No one came.  
  
****************  
  
Rimmer was pissed off. He had had to sit in the very uncomfortable cockpit chair for fifteen whole minutes more than necessary. Even his military sock collection could not alleviate the boredom and the growing pain in his rear, and eventually he shot out of his chair like a bullet from a gun, sending the cat's hair curlers flying.  
  
"Hey goalpost head! You messed up my hair!"  
  
A large argument had ensued, with Rimmer the loser as usual. He simply could not find the words that would justify a fashion faux pas to the cat and had stormed out in a huff.  
  
Now if he wanted any peace at all he would have to find Lister, and Rimmer knew that getting Lister away from the A.R machine would be a job and a half. He ran through all the possibilities in his head as he walked, deciding that a sudden disconnection of the A.R cables (causing a nice visual and audio feedback sensation) and a bucket of cold urine-recyc water in the face would suffice.  
  
Striding purposefully into the A.R suite, he gave a long disapproving sigh on the off chance that Lister was disconnected. It was only half hearted, and he was soon groping round for the leads connecting Lister to the computer. Tracing it along with his fingers, he reached Lister and realised he was slumped on the floor, a thin stream of blood coming from his eyes and nose.  
  
Rimmer froze on the spot, and then did a double take, making sure he wasn't hallucinating again. No, Lister was still there, and he didn't appear to be breathing!  
  
Rimmer at last found his voice. His yell brought Kryten at a run, and caused the Cat to have a fringe reminiscent of "There's something about Mary."  
  
Rimmer crouched beside Lister, and shook him. Hard.  
  
"Get up Lister! For God's sake get up! What the smeg is going on?"  
  
Kryten ran over to the computer and began typing furiously, his eyes and hands moving so fast it was impossible to see. He gave a running commentary of his progress.  
  
"The main computer has been compromised, this program is running from a vast amount of it's memory, and it is also controlling all of the A.R equipment, including the nerve connectors. It's killing him, Sir!"  
  
Rimmer shook Lister again, and he finally took one huge laboured breath. Blood gurgled out of his mouth onto Rimmer's hands. Rimmer panicked, and began hitting him round the face. Kryten whirled round and yelled:  
  
"It's no use, Sir! He is dying, and I can't work out what the program has done! It is still running far too many processes for me to track!"  
  
"Just track them!"  
  
Rimmer screamed, yanking Lister into a sitting position and trying to pull the helmet from his head. It came off with a sickening "Squelch" and bloody needles, the remains of the sensory stimulator, fell to the floor. Lister gave one final breath, and then sagged, all his life signs faded from the screen.  
  
As Rimmer alternately panted and yelled abuse at the prone Lister, Kryten watched in horror as the program continued to run, something blinked up onto the nearest monitor.  
  
"Dead Man walking - The End"  
  
Everything went black.  
  
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All reviews and constructive criticism welcome. Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. ^_^ 


	4. Light Fantastic

Dead Man Walking  
  
Chapter 4 - Light Fantastic  
  
Each second smashed through the fabric of time and space, the numbers on the small clock in the A.R suite changing with an indescribable heaviness and finality. Rimmer still held Lister's body, his brain still unable to process the fact that he was holding just that - a corpse.  
  
Kryten alternately sniffed and typed. There was no need for words - he was sure Rimmer was as traumatised as he was. He tried to keep himself busy, give Rimmer time: but eventually he just had to ask:  
  
"Sir? Could you tell me what these readouts mean? I have never seen anything like it, and I wouldn't like to assume - "  
  
" - Yes Kryten, I'm coming."  
  
Rimmer's voice was flat and emotionless. He tried to get up, then realised that Lister was still slumped against him. As gently as he could, he lowered him to the floor, looking away when his head flopped limply to one side.  
  
He never really expected to be any help - hell the toaster knew more about astronavigation and computer technology than he did. He simply wanted to forget, and lose himself in his work. Kryten wordlessly showed Rimmer a 3D plan of Starbug and its systems, highlighting the ones that were still functioning. He pointed to some that looked a bit suspicious. Several of the computer's memory centres were still operating, although the only data being processed was that of their flight. The Cat was still at the helm so those computers had little or no work to do - what was going on?  
  
"Kryten, show me those centres."  
  
Kryten tapped quickly on the keypad.  
  
"Sir, I'm afraid it won't let me display the information. I will have to bring it up in machine code."  
  
Rimmer sighed in frustration. For all he knew this malfunction of the computers could lead to all of their deaths, and the only way to work out what was wrong was encrypted in some gobbledegook that he had no way of interpreting.  
  
"Just do it, Kryten. Tell me what it says."  
  
Rimmer crouched once more beside Lister, and put his body into a more comfortable position. He was interrupted by a sad cough from Kryten. It MUST be bad - Mechanoids don't cough. They don't even eat.  
  
"Sir. I can't read it."  
  
"What!"  
  
Rimmer had resigned himself to being the weak link but still getting the job done, now even that had gone down the pan.  
  
"What do you mean you can't smegging read it? You're a mechanoid, you use that crap all the time!"  
  
"Not this sir, it is a specific code - used in a specialised field. My manufacturers obviously did not think it was necessary for me to learn this code, so it will be something totally unrelated to my official function."  
  
"So all we have to do is consider everything not to do with cleaning toilets and we'll be fine!"  
  
Kryten hung his head, he wished he could help but for now the stuff on the screen was about as legible to him as a two year olds finger painting.  
  
"You can't work out what it says?"  
  
"No Sir, it has no official structure - no pattern as far as I can see. Some of the codes are symmetrical but it is an entirely original code - not a variant. "  
  
"Ok I get the point. What the hell has this smegging thing done to the ship?"  
  
"As far as I can tell Sir, nothing. It k-killed Mr Lister and now it is lying dormant in these memory terminals. Tens of trillions of bytes of memory - "  
  
"What?"  
  
Rimmer was sure he had heard that before. He turned to the screen and began looking at the scrolling numbers and symbols. Suddenly he was back at a desk in a classroom on Red Dwarf, and Todhunter was lecturing in his droning nasal voice:  
  
"Tens of trillions of bytes of memory, and only for one person. That's why we have to make sure that you are worth it. No shampoo jokes please."  
  
Of course! Rimmer looked at the symbols again. He recognised several of them, and now he understood.  
  
"Kryten, I know what this is!"  
  
Shortly after he had been revived as a hologram, the longing to know more about himself and his new existence had got too much, and he had made frequent visits to the hologram simulation suite. He had stood in the vast room, seeing images from his life replayed before him, saw his innermost thoughts and dreams once again. In a depression, he had sat at the console, looking at the reams of computer code that created him, and passing his hand soundlessly through the table to see if the numbers changed, digital tears trickling down his cheeks.  
  
Those numbers and symbols were here! That was what he saw as he looked at the screen in the A.R suite. It was those same symbols - a mind and personality stored on disk. His own was in there somewhere as well of course, but not in the newly activated systems. There was something sentient in there!  
  
He did not stop to think, did not stop to explain to Kryten. He knew those symbols, knew them better than anyone.  
  
"Computer! Run hologram backup program from secondary memory terminals one through five!"  
  
"This will compromise power levels"  
  
"Just do it! Switch off all non-essential systems!"  
  
Kryten looked round in bewilderment.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Hologram generated. Medical Bay."  
  
Rimmer pelted off down the corridor, arms pumping furiously. Kryten jogged after him and the Cat peeked his head from the midsection and decided that a race was a race.  
  
Surprisingly, Rimmer got to the medical bay first. He skidded to a halt and was promptly knocked flying by Kryten and Cat who had less reliable braking methods than his rubber boots.  
  
He flew toward the hologram in the centre of the room, which did not have time to get out of the way. Rimmer was therefore surprised when his face connected with the wall.  
  
The hologram turned round. Rimmer could make out a dim figure, its eyes shocked and sunken. It walked over to Rimmer and offered to help him up. Rimmer shook his head and covered his eyes with his hand. He had royally screwed up this time.  
  
The figure had a 2-inch high hologram H on his forehead. His legs went clean through the tray of supplies on the floor.  
  
The figure was Lister.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Thanks again for the nice reviews! I hope you liked this chapter. Please feel free to tell me what you think. 


	5. Lost Soul

Dead Man Walking  
  
Chapter 5 - Lost Soul  
  
Lister felt what could only be described as a sharp yank around his chest, and then he was dragged from his death so swiftly his mind did not comprehend what was happening, and he was flung into a blaze of light and sound. The pain was still fresh in his mind: the terrible wounds and tortures he had suffered. Lasting only minutes, his memories had built them up until it seemed to him the pain had never stopped, but had always been there for him to endure. He had fallen into a well of agony, and at the bottom, he found a void of emptiness. His conscious mind had let go. Now it was mentally slapped across the face, as he realised that wherever he was, it wasn't that terrible city.  
  
His eyes squinted around him, and eventually the blurred, bright shapes moulded themselves into something resembling a room. A room he knew well. Tables and chairs appeared in front of him, and to his left the medical computer swam into view. So he was in the medical bay. But why was he standing in the middle of the room, and how did he get there?  
  
He looked around him again. Yes he was definitely in the medical bay, but the beds behind him were unoccupied. He hadn't been asleep.  
  
["Maybe I had an accident, and lost my memory. Then that business with the game was all a dream!"]  
  
Thinking about the game: Dead man Walking: Lister shuddered involuntarily. The memories of the city and the creatures ["Demons"] within were too real. SOMETHING had happened to him there. He was sure of it.  
  
"None of it makes sense!"  
  
He looked down, and saw to his surprise that he was dressed in some very weird clothes. They were his, but they were CLEAN and they looked new, as if he had plenty of spare clothes, which he didn't. Also, he felt quite well. Good in fact, when his mind was screaming at him that he had been hurt, hurt so badly that he could have almost -  
  
["Died?"]  
  
His confusion was thankfully cut short, when there came the sound of pounding feet, and a blue blur streaked towards him with blinding speed. Lister instinctively put out his arms to defend himself, and was surprised when nothing hit him, but instead a loud bang sounded directly behind him. He jumped and turned round to find Rimmer lying in a pile of knocked-over crates and trolleys. He walked over and extended a hand, his brain still refusing to catch up with past events, his mind still racing and his hand trembling.  
  
Rimmer looked at the hand as if it would try to strangle him. Lister was puzzled - ok so he never washed, but this hand was clean for once, though he didn't know how, and Rimmer needed a help getting up anyway. What was wrong with him?  
  
He checked out his hand. It was fine, unblemished and not a speck of dirt in sight. He wiped it on his pants to make sure, and then offered it to Rimmer again.  
  
"Come on Rimmer, what're you waiting for? - "  
  
He stopped when he realised Rimmer was not paying attention, he was sitting with his face in his hands, moaning and groaning like he would pass out. Lister wasn't aware that Kryten and Cat had entered the room behind him, he was just confused about Rimmer. He was fine! Surely that couldn't make Rimmer THAT unhappy? It didn't seem like that sort of unhappy though, Rimmer wasn't mad at him. If he was Lister was sure he'd have known about it by know. Rimmer would have yelled it to the heavens if he could. No this was quieter and all the more disturbing in that Rimmer was actually so genuine. The normal fake Rimmer would never try to distract attention from himself. Lister tried again.  
  
"What's wrong man? Get up!"  
  
Rimmer raised his head, his eyes were darkened and he made involuntary gulping noises, as his hard light hologram could not cry. With a shaking hand he pointed downwards towards the floor at Lister's feet. Lister looked down.  
  
His feet were gone! He was standing on the stumps of his legs! He reeled back, and to his shock his feet appeared in front of him, unhurt! Shaking, Lister took an experimental step forward, his feet were there, he had just been imagining things.  
  
["Dave, you idiot!"]  
  
He walked forward more confidently, back towards Rimmer. To his horror, as he tried to clamber over the crate, his foot vanished once more. Rimmer had looked up, but now he put his head back in his hands.  
  
"I'm sorry!"  
  
It was just a whisper, but there was such desperation in the tone that Lister realised that he wasn't imagining things. Something was seriously wrong with him. And by the looks of Rimmer, he knew what it was, and was perhaps responsible!  
  
"Rimmer, what the smeg is wrong with me? My smeggin' legs are gone!"  
  
Rimmer just moaned, and turned away. Lister turned round, and saw Kryten and the Cat in the doorway. Both were frozen with shock, and Kryten's voice unit seemed to have got caught on a loop.  
  
"I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I Sir. Y-you - "  
  
Lister interrupted him, his voice becoming panicked.  
  
"What's happening Kryten? Tell me!"  
  
"Sir, you should - "  
  
"Tell me Kryten! For smeg's sake!"  
  
Kryten only looked at the floor. Lister turned to the Cat, but as always the feline wasn't the most helpful person around.  
  
"It's bad, Bud."  
  
"What's bad?!"  
  
"Goalpost-head's done it this time."  
  
"Done what?!"  
  
"I wouldn't like to be in his shoes. Not just because they are tremendously dorky but - "  
  
"Cat, tell me! Oh stuff this!"  
  
Lister pelted ran over to the medical scanner and tried to get on the table, his hands went through without a hint of resistance, as if he were just a ghost.  
  
["Wait a minute!"] "Give me a mirror!"  
  
Kryten looked worried  
  
"Sir, do you really -?"  
  
"Give me a smeggin' mirror!"  
  
Rimmer looked up from his position on the floor, a determined expression in his eyes.  
  
"I'll get him one."  
  
He walked slowly over to the door of the medical bay, and Lister made to follow. As he reached the frame, Rimmer turned for a split second.  
  
"You two stay here."  
  
Kryten nodded mutely. He placed Hand on the Cat's arm, and together they began to stack up the overturned crates.  
  
Lister blundered after Rimmer down the corridors. Everything still felt wrong somehow. The floor was slippery and didn't seem to have any grip, his legs felt light, and there was no sensation in his torso at all. It was as if that curried space-weevil he had had for breakfast never existed. His steps grew more hurried, and once or twice he slipped on the strangely smooth floor. Rimmer stopped to wait for him to stand up, looking at him with shame in his eyes. They reached the sleeping quarters, and Rimmer turned the vid-screen to it's mirror setting.  
  
Lister walked slowly towards the mirror. The blurred convex screen was notorious for providing poor focus, and it was not until he was about 4 feet from it that he could see himself clearly. He was right, his clothes looked newly ironed and clean, but they were still the sort of things he would have worn. Still, that wasn't particularly helpful. He looked upwards. Though he wasn't hurt, his eyes were ringed with dark circles, and they fully betrayed his fear.  
  
["I look like smeg, but not bad, considering - "]  
  
It had taken him a good few seconds, but he finally noticed the Hologram H on his forehead. After checking it with his hands to make sure he wasn't dreaming, he let out a yell that made Rimmer visibly recoil, but he refused to shut it out. It was his fault, and he had to take the consequences.  
  
"What the smeg have you DONE?!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Thank you for the reviews of the last chapter, it helps a lot to know what people think. ^_^  
  
Not that much happened there really, so I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible. They will be short, but frequent hopefully. I have no idea how long this story is going to be, so I'll just go with it until I think of an ending. Wish me luck!  
  
P.S Sorry about the use of block capitals, but italics don't work . 


	6. Adjusting

Dead Man Walking  
  
Chapter 6 - Adjusting  
  
"Personal Log: Second Technician Arnold Rimmer - Acting Senior Officer, Jupiter Mining Corporation Transport Vessel Starbug 1. Oh God I don't even know if I am doing this right. Was it that button? Yes, I think it was. Okay Rimmer, start as you mean to go on – succinct and to the point. No messing about."  
  
Rimmer sat in the small uncomfortable chair in the medical bay, his hands gripping the arms with arm-wrestling intensity while his feet did little fidget dances around the wheels. He had gone there to be alone, to try and think things through. So much had happened, things he didn't like to think about at all really, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to talk to someone. Hence the sitting and the fidgeting. He had decided rather impulsively that the best thing to do would be to get everything off his chest, and at the same time inform any would-be-rescuers of their incredibly dire situation.  
  
"Right. Well we have been in deep space now for approximately 3 million and one thousand years. In that time, we have persistently set a course for Earth. However we have recently lost the Mining Vessel Red Dwarf, and are now in pursuit; following the fading vapour trail. Supplies are very limited: we have food but water is scarce, and fuel and power are becoming an increasing problem. Worse still, we keep getting attacked by various deranged and homicidal life-forms who seem to have less respect for us than a drunk has for a policeman. Most of the time they hurl abuse and shower everything with offending liquids. The hostiles, not the drunks. Anyway, back to the point. Our situation has become even more desperate recently when an...accident caused our power demand to be increased exponentially, and we now have to burn up most of the fuel to keep everything working. Of course, the ship could reduce the power it expends in order to have a better chance of catching Red Dwarf...but it would mean the loss of life."  
  
Rimmer paused. He really didn't know what to say. He had given their status, which meant that the "official" part of the log was over. Anything else would be him: just him and his feelings. Rimmer had a problem with feelings. They were hidden from other people, and sometimes Rimmer even hid them from himself. His daily life was a carefully constructed fabrication of expectations and goals. Emotions were only there to get him what he wanted, and genuine emotions were seldom allowed to surface. Now, even in the seclusion and pin-dropping silence of the medical bay, his face squirmed with the effort of getting his true purpose voiced. The first few words were a revelation: after that, it all came out in a mumbling, halting mess. Rimmer was letting go, and could anyone stop him? No chance. He had waited more than 3 million years after all.  
  
"Well now I had better talk about the accident. Nobody really knows what happened. It was just..." He took a deep breath "Well I wasn't thinking. Lister was hurt – some stupid A.R game - and when I found him I panicked, I suppose. There was blood...so much blood it was ridiculous. I had never seen anything like it – he was so pale. I tried to help, God I was stupid. I thought I could do something but as usual, I just messed everything up. Good old Arnold the chicken-soup machine cleaner to the rescue!" He chucked sadly and propped up his head with his hand "I just made everything ten times worse."  
  
A few more minutes passed, as Rimmer finally managed to tell of the accident and how he had unwittingly revived Lister as a hologram. He tried his best not to gloss over things or wallow in self-pity, but eventually he didn't think about it all, he just talked.  
  
"Now Lister is a hologram – soft light. He hates me, I'm sure of it. I thought he hated me before, I wanted him to hate me. Him hating me was one of the best things about being on this ship. The arguments were always enjoyable, although I always lost. Now I know he hates me, hates me so much he won't even argue with me anymore. I want to talk to him, but what would I say? He died, and I don't think he ever thought he would. Of course I didn't think I would die either, but I had time to prepare, adjust – he didn't! He was thrown right in there in the deep end. Smeg what have I done? He hasn't come out of his quarters yet, and Kryten says that all the doors have been locked. He can't hurt himself, but God - I wish I knew he was alright! The power levels are so low, he must be killing himself in there. Smeg he is dead, now we are both dead. But I stole his life, I'm hard light and now what has he got left?!"  
  
Rimmer hit the keyboard in frustration. His face was blanched, and his lips were set in a quivering line. He choked out "Save" and then exited in a stumble, the chair shooting across the room and crashing among the boxes. The quiet moans as Rimmer flung himself under a fuel pipe 20 seconds later could not be heard from the cockpit, where Kryten and Cat piloted in respectful silence. Neither could they be heard from the sleeping quarters, where a solitary figure looked in the mirror for the 846th time, and cried.  
  
****************  
  
Lister sat on the floor of the sleeping quarters, in the same position he had been in for the last 15 hours. He had long since stopped looking in the mirror – it was no good if the image refused to change for him. Now he hugged his legs tightly to his body, relishing the contact, the pain in his muscles. It was the only contact he had, save for the smooth bare floor he now sat on.  
  
Kryten had explained everything, in-between Lister's furious shouting and ranting, and then through the deathly silence. Lister's personality had been linked to the memory terminals, and at the point of his death, his entire mind was downloaded into the computer. It was held there for the few brief moments until Rimmer had activated the hologram program, which recognised the information and voila! Instant hologram. Of course, Lister was not like an ordinary hologram. He remembered his death, for one. Most people revived as holograms had their personalities recorded months before their deaths, so remembering everything up to half a nanosecond before your own painful death was a bit of a new concept for mankind in general; especially if said death included being appetiser to a bunch of deranged slobbering demons from a hell-like planet. Nope, things were not good. The worst thing in Kryten's mind was that he just wasn't equipped to handle this sort of situation. Okay he had a few psychiatry chips, but they just didn't cover post-mortem therapy, and Rimmer had left his "Your own death, and how to cope with it." pamphlet back on Red Dwarf. Kryten secretly thought that this was for the best. Lister didn't seem inclined to accept any form of therapy at all; instead he had completely withdrawn from the world.  
  
In fact, Lister was more aware of the world than ever - aware because it was something he could no longer experience. He was painfully conscious for the first time just how limiting it was to be a soft-light hologram. Unlike Rimmer on Red Dwarf, Lister could not even interact with the most basic of furnishings, except the floor. There simply wasn't enough power. The only thing he could do was exist, and even that had lost its usual appeal. He was concerned that he didn't feel hungry or thirsty – it just wasn't right! Curry had been his life, and now the thought of it didn't excite him at all. He even hoped to just feel hungry, even if he could not eat. Maybe it would make him feel more alive. After nearly 72 hours, there was no change. He was in limbo, a ghost in the machine.  
  
His hands clenched and unclenched slowly at his sides, his breathing heavy though he was no longer alive. Thoughts raced through his head, a running monologue of rambling consciousness and inner rage. Then his silence was disturbed by the sound of footsteps coming his way. He curled up tighter in a ball, refusing to look up as the door swished open, and a pair of familiar authoritative boots approached.  
  
"Lister, I just wondered if..." Rimmer began confidently, but his voice faded faster than a new carpet.  
  
"Please leave, Rimmer." Lister's voice was calm, but his knuckles whitened and he took several deep breaths.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry for what I did, I wasn't thinking – "  
  
"Damned right you weren't!" Lister yelled, lurching to his feet. "Now look what's happened! I am no longer the last surviving member of the human race, I have the very special position of the first known hologram to witness his own very painful death! Thanks to you, I'm moving up in the world!" He waved his arms wildly, and Rimmer instinctively flinched and moved backwards.  
  
"I didn't know..." Rimmer looked so horrified, so shaken that Lister stopped his temporary dance of rage and stood still, looking at Rimmer curiously. Then all the anger left him, and he sank to his knees, sliding into a huddled position once more. His chest heaved with silent gulps of emotion.  
  
Rimmer had never had to comfort anyone before, and to say he was ill- prepared was an understatement. He mentally ran through a list of options – Pat on the back? Nope. That's usually for choking or pregnant women, he thought. Hug? No that wasn't right either. He couldn't think of a suitably joking-manly way to hug Lister and doubted Lister would appreciate the gesture. Tell him everything would be all right? That was the dumbest idea yet! Of course, nothing was going to be all right! A concussed fast-food worker would be able to tell that their situation was dire, and that Lister hadn't a frog in a blender's chance of restarting the human race. He quickly ran out of options, and settled for the intermediate approach, sinking onto the floor next to Lister and adopting an "I'm listening" posture that looked more like he was inspecting Lister's eyebrows.  
  
"If there is anything I can do –"  
  
"Don't be an idiot Rimmer, there isn't anything you can possibly do to help." Said Lister without looking up.  
  
"There must be something – wait! I know. No, you wouldn't like it..."  
  
"What?"  
  
But he never got to find out what it was, because Kryten's worried voice crackled to life over the ship's intercom, just as a tremor caused the ship to lurch violently to one side and hurled Rimmer across the room.  
  
"Sirs, please come to the cockpit immediately! This is an emergency!"  
  
"What is it?" Asked Rimmer irritably, wiping shaving foam and toothpaste from his hair.  
  
"You are not going to believe this Sir, but we've found Red Dwarf! Come and see for yourself!"  
  
The conversation temporarily forgotten, the two men sprang to their feet and neither noticed that the shorter passed through the taller on their way out of the door. They were home at last!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Explaining the hologram logic behind this chapter – My physics in this story is that holograms can only touch other holograms, therefore if they want to touch anything (even walls and furniture) the ship must make a hologram of the object and mesh it over the physical one (like a chair or bunk) which you cannot see. However, this also uses up power, just as the hologram of a person does. So if the power supply is low (as is the case here) the computer can't create any objects and the hologram has very limited interaction. (End of manic ramble)  
  
I had to write it in sections too because I was so busy, so sorry if it doesn't mesh well and sorry also for the horrendous amount of angst and depression. It gets better I promise! Next update should hopefully be quicker. Please tell me what you think! 


	7. Virus

Dead Man Walking  
  
Chapter 7 - Virus  
  
Lister and Rimmer made it to the cockpit in record time. His current predicament forgotten, Lister bounced up and down in a vain attempt to look out of the window, his view obscured by Rimmer's toilet-brush haircut and Kryten's head of considerable dimensions.  
  
"Hey! Lemme see!"  
  
"Shut up Lister!"  
  
Rimmer wafted him with one hand.  
  
"Kryten, can you make contact?"  
  
"I'm trying Sir, but it is a good distance away, and Holly is not responding. Perhaps the signal is too weak."  
  
Lister edged forward nervously.  
  
"Since when have we had signal trouble at this distance? I think something's wrong."  
  
Cat nodded agreement.  
  
"Yeah Bud - my nose is gettin' something, and it doesn't smell good. We are in more trouble than a tramp with an expired dry-clean token!"  
  
"How can you possibly say that!" Rimmer rounded on cat with a look of scorn, but his forehead was pale and creased with worry.  
  
"Look, my nose does NOT lie, and I'm telling' you Holly can't contact us for a reason - a very bad reason. We should just get outta here."  
  
"No way."  
  
Lister addressed Kryten in the hope that he could reason with him.  
  
"Kryten, can you boost the signal a bit? We are getting closer all the time so it'll get better, right?"  
  
"I'll do my best sir."  
  
Kryten tapped feverishly, but it mustn't have worked because he gave a huge mechanical sigh and slowed down after only a few seconds.  
  
"Come on Kryten!"  
  
"I'm sorry sir, there's nothing I can - "  
  
"Look!"  
  
Rimmer interrupted everyone by rushing to the view screen, tripping over a chair in the process. Just before his nose hit the floor, his flailing hand caught and tapped a corner of the screen, where a small light at the rear of the Dwarf flashed gently.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Kryten resumed tapping, and tried to analyse the flashes that originated from the cargo area of the ship.  
  
"It's a pattern; a visual representation of machine code. It must be Holly."  
  
Kryten did not look happy at this news. A fact that Lister noticed immediately.  
  
"What's wrong, Kryters?"  
  
"He is repeating only one word - "Danger."  
  
------------------------

The decision was almost unanimous - they were going in. Cat of course needed to be reassured of the minimal danger to his clothes, and for a change Rimmer and Lister agreed on something - Red Dwarf meant more power, and a better chance for their survival. Kryten thought they were being very rash, but considered the dusting to be done aboard the massive vessel and promised to help them all he could.  
  
Scans of the ship produced no life signs, but they were able to determine that much of Holly's circuitry had been removed, and the rest stored in the cargo decks. This explained the origin of his warning. Only one question remained - who or what was controlling Red Dwarf?  
  
The short amount of time they needed to prepare only emphasised their limited options. They decided that it would be safest to board Red Dwarf where Holly's presence was strongest - the cargo levels and the rear of the ship. The only problem with this was that there were no docks at cargo level and as far as they knew Holly wouldn't be able to operate them if they were. Their only option was to force their way in somewhere and try to find Holly. Then they could work out a better plan.  
  
Rimmer gave bazookoids to Cat, Kryten and himself. They wouldn't be much use in combat situations but they were ideal for cutting through the ship. He hand stretched out to give one to Lister, but remembered just in time. Lister would have to sit this one out. He looked up from his embarrassingly twitching fingers to see Lister looking at him with a sad smile.  
  
"I'm comin' in with you."  
  
"No you are not, Lister!" Rimmer, said, horrified. "As your superior technician it is my job to -"  
  
"Smeg off, Rimmer!"  
  
Lister gave him the finger, then walked over to Rimmer and got in his face. Far too close. Rimmer's personal-space bubble was non-existent. He flinched.  
  
"You see that over there?"  
  
Lister jabbed his finger to the view screen where Red Dwarf was still in view.  
  
"That is my HOME, Rimmer. I'm coming with you. Someone has to make sure you guys don't screw up, right?"  
  
His tone didn't allow for any arguments, but his odd half-grin told Rimmer he was trying to put on a brave face. He thought about it for a second or two, the information bouncing around his frayed nerves and he decided that allowing Lister to come wouldn't make a bit of difference in a physical sense, but in every other way they needed him. They all looked to Lister to help them, even Rimmer himself. Deep down he knew that he was useless at strategy, and he knew how helpless someone felt as soft light. Lister needed to be needed. Another flash of inspiration occurred to Rimmer and his brain was beginning to get tired, but he held on to it. It wouldn't be a good idea for Rimmer to acknowledge or take pleasure in Lister's weakness. He would want to be treated just the same as everyone else. He forced himself to pretend he hadn't had a huge social insight and put on his best petulant tone.  
  
"Well stop whining and hurry up then! We only have one shot at getting onto the hull!"  
  
He stomped out of the cockpit, and Lister his face set, took one last look at their flight path and said under his breath:  
  
"God, it's goin' to be close."  
  
Then he quietly left, sealing the door behind him. There was no turning back now.

--------------------------

They made it. Just.  
  
Starbug passed very close to Red Dwarf's hull, and the crew shimmied along a line to the ship. Kryten literally dragged Lister by his light bee, an experience the new hologram found to be extraordinarily similar to being lassoed by a drunken cowboy halfway down the drop of a roller coaster. For a second he was distracted by the musing that he was one of the very few people in the world able to verify such a comparison, and then his feet touched something solid. They were there. He looked down.  
  
"Kryten, my feet are see-through!"  
  
"Um, yes Sir. Until we are able to access the hologram suite on Red Dwarf, the distance from Starbug's hologram generator and your light bee means that the signal is even weaker than usual. Mr Rimmer will have to revert to soft light soon unless we can find a power source to recharge the hard light drive.  
  
"Then let's get on with it." Lister said, gesturing to the towering red wall in front of them. The Cat put on his golden visor with mirrored screen and began to laser through the wall. Lister crouched down as one by one they began, and eventually his silhouette was hidden in a rain of sparks.  
  
It took them several hours, but eventually they managed to cut into the side of an airlock and open the seal. As it closed again, Cat removed his helmet and began brushing his hair, while Lister, Rimmer and Kryten tried to work out where they were.  
  
"I think we are two floors below the cargo decks, Sir. The maintenance level. If I am correct there will be a supply cupboard and a service hatch to our right after the next junction."  
  
"I bloody well hope so, because this ship doesn't have stairs, you know." Rimmer grouched as they began to walk, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. Suddenly, a speaker on the wall burst into life, and voice hissed at them:  
  
"Intruders, you will be destroyed."  
  
Lister lost his temper. There was only so much a guy could take in one day. He stomped over to the speaker.  
  
"Listen pal, this is OUR ship and we want you out, pronto! Or we'll blast our way to the bridge and throw you out!"  
  
"My dear little hologram." The voice laughed. "I don't think throwing me out is an option. You see, this ship is now and forever under the control of the Reaper virus, and soon its pitiful AI will be eliminated, allowing me to destroy you once and for all. In the meantime, let's see how you manage with a security lockdown." The speaker crackled and died.  
  
Immediately a siren sounded, and all the doors in their corridor locked. They were still 30 yards from the supply room and now there were about 5 steel doors in the way as well.  
  
"What the hell was that?" said Rimmer, furious at himself for crouching in the corner with his hands over his head, and even more put out by the fact that it had been Lister who had stood up for them.  
  
"Sir, we are in big trouble." Said Kryten. "If that was indeed the Reaper virus, then quite possibly…"  
  
"What, Kryten!?" Said Lister.  
  
"We're doomed." sighed Rimmer, leaning against the wall and trying to drown out the siren by drumming his fingers on a pipe.  
  
Cat raised his eyebrows and looked at Kryten, who looked at the floor. Lister walked over to him.  
  
"Tell us Kryten."  
  
"We're doomed, Sir." 

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Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate it 


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